Gag Reflection
by Formaldehydeman85
Summary: Timmy loves Sandy but a pesky plague threatens to rip them both apart, or at least stink up the joint.
1. Chapter 1: the importance of being kermy

Timmy walked home from baseball practice with his arm wrapped around the girl of his dreams. He was praying and hoping for that split second when he could muster up the courage to reveal to her his deepest, darkest secret. Unfortunately, for both Timmy and the girl of his dreams, that moment would never come, just as many more moments would never come. For you see, if was on this fateful day that Timmy became aware of the fact that not only was he incapable of communicating with the opposite sex, but he was incapable of communication itself. Timmy had developed a rare form of allergen called needlohydra that not only paralyzed his vocal chords but gave him severe indigestion as well. He clutched at his throat to indicate that he was in trouble. Sandy, a certified proctologist, asked him to lie down and be still.

"Can you hear me?", she asked.

Timmy tried to respond but the synapses in his brain instead forced him to slap Sandy as hard as he could in the face. Sandy, who was no stranger to abuse, simply licked her lips and continued going through the revival process.

"I'm gonna poke you with something to test your pain reaction."

She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and rammed it in between the nail and cuticle of his right index finger. He wanted to scream bloody murder but the best he could do was twitch his eyebrows in such a way that let her know he meant business. Sandy's face was really starting to smart from that wallop she received earlier, so she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Timmy was starting to convulse violently so Sandy took off one of her socks and rammed it into his mouth. This seemed to do the trick because he stopped shaking altogether. He looked up at the clouds with an air of total satisfaction. This wasn't the way he had envisioned getting one of Sandy's garments in his mouth, but it was still worth it.

When Timmy came to he was in a dark room surrounded by flies. They kept buzzing at him in all directions and dive bombing his ear canals. He had no way of determining where he was because a black bandana had been tied over his eyes. He tried to lift his hands to swat the flies away but they'd been tied down to the bed by what felt like rope. He tried to scream but the effects of the needlo were still going strong. The only solace he got was from realizing that Sandy's sock was still lodged firmly in his mouth. He savored the faint scent of stale feet that wafted in and around his face.

He heard the door open and instinctively turned towards it. The footsteps that approached the bed were deep and heavy.

"Do you know why you're here?", the voice asked.

He shook his head no.

"You've been diagnosed with a rare allergen. We don't know much about it yet but we have to keep a close eye on you until your symptoms improve."

Timmy pulled against his restraints and felt a soft, familiar hand caress his forehead.

"Try not to fight it, Timmy.", she said.

She pulled the wet sock out of his mouth and slung it against the adjoining wall. She watched with contentment as it slowly slithered to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2: long sash bombast

The doctor was a short and squatty man of about sixty five. He came from an era where every town had one doctor, and he resented the fact that now he had to compete with four or five young hot shots that wanted nothing more than to steal away his loyal clients. He unzipped the worn leather pouch that contained all of his medical instruments and stuck his head way down inside it.

"Is there any way I can help?", asked Sandy.

"No, no it's quite alright." His head was so far down his own medical bag that Sandy had a hard time hearing him, but she assumed he didn't need assistance.

"Ahh, got it."

He removed the retractors from the bag and laid them down on the nightstand.

"Sandy, be a dear and put some coffee on, would you?"

She looked defiantly at the doctor for a moment but determined that it wasn't the right time for an argument. She sulked out of the room and made her way downstairs towards the kitchen. The doctor looked at his patient and sighed heavily. He licked his lips and slowly made his way around the perimeter of the bed.

Timmy wasn't sure what was going on but he knew he wasn't alone. He wasn't sure if he was imagining things or not but he could've sworn it felt like someone was breathing down his neck.

"Well", he thought to himself, "at least the flies are gone."

Sandy was on her knees searching through a cupboard for the coffee filters. She reached far back and felt something sharp dig into her skin. She drew her hand back and watched as a pool of blood slowly filled the open gash on her palm,

"Damn nails!", she yelled.

She stood up and walked over to the sink to grab a rag. As she was tying the rag firmly around her hand she saw the coffee filters sitting in plain sight right next to the sink.

"That's one way of doing it."

She tore open the bag and pulled out a fresh filter. She poured two scoops of coffee beans in the filter and closed the lid on the machine. It was right when she hit the start button that she heard Timmy screaming.


	3. Chapter 3: can I finish?

He woke up to the familiar feel of his dog's tongue lapping against his hand. He opened his eyes and he was back home in Smithville. The football helmet perched on the bedpost, the glow in the dark stars pasted all over the ceiling, the felt grateful dead poster of a skeleton dancing with a big top hat on. It was all exactly like he remembered it, save for the pistol at the foot of the bed. He reached down towards his feet to grab it, Right before he put his hand on it it sank into his mattress. He was wondering how this could be possible when he felt his whole body tumbling towards the hole that the pistol had made. Before he knew it he was free falling through a dark chamber that looked like it was made out of someone's insides. He struck the side of the organism and realized it was soft like a wet sock. He banged against the other side and broke through it into total darkness. Far off in the distance he could faintly make out a small beacon of light. The orb got bigger and bigger before enveloping his entire field of vision. The light faded again into total darkness and he became aware that he was back in the room with the flies. They buzzed in and around his ear.

"Coffee?"

He sat up in the bed and leaned toward the voice.

"You can take the blindfold off if you want, the doctor says it's okay for you to move around now."

He reached up and pulled the blindfold down around his neck. Thankfully the room was dark, lit by a lone candle near the window. His eyes adjusted relatively quickly.

"Where am I?"

"You're at my house, silly."

Sandy's house? As long as he could remember he'd fantasized about what it would be like to be inside her house.

"How did I get here?"

"You passed out on the way home from school. I tried to revive you but you kept shaking. Luckily my aunt drove by and saw that you were in trouble. We threw you in her car and drove here as fast as we could."

"Why didn't you take me to the hospital."

"Oh dear, Timmy, we don't believe in hospitals. Who needs hospitals any way when my dad's a doctor."

The door squeaked open and a squatty old man poked his head into the room.

"And how is our little guy?"

"Good dad. He's not shaking or anything, and he's talking again."

"Wonderful!"

He closed the door again and waddled down the hall.

"Can I go home now?"

"Oh my, my Timmy. Of course not. In the state you're in I'd be surprised if you could even get out of bed."

Timmy slung the sheets and blankets onto the ground. He always loved a good challenge. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and thought long and hard about what it would feel like to stand up. His feet started tingling as he began hoisting himself off the mattress. As he made one final push it became abundantly apparent that he was going to fall. Sandy stepped forward and he collapsed into her arms. He tried his best to remain composed but the helplessness of the situation got the better of him and he began crying into Sandy's bosom. Sandy felt so sorry for her friend that she joined in with her own sobs. It would only be a couple minutes before their tears of sorrow morphed into tears of joy.


	4. Chapter 4: chalet du pris

After embracing for what felt like an eternity Sandy laid Timmy back down on the bed and pulled the sheet up over his frail body. Timmy shivered and pulled his hands up towards his face.

"Can I call my mom?"

Sandy scrunched up her face like she smelled something foul.

"She needs to know I'm here."

Sandy gave Timmy a knowing glance and stroked his head.

"She knows, Timmy."

"She knows I'm here?"

"She knows. She wants you to rest."

"I still wanna talk to her."

"She can't be bothered. The best thing for you right now is to relax and try not to talk. Your mother understands this, why can't you?"

He laid his head back down on the pillow and turned away from her. She tried to stroke his head but he swatted her hand away. She kicked the bed violently and stormed out of the room.

How did he get here? Yesterday he would have jumped at the chance to be held captive by the love of his life, but the real thing was way less romantic. Sure he was getting more attention than he ever thought possible, but he was also starting to fear for his own safety. Were they ever gonna let him go? Did his mom really know he was there? These questions ran over and over in his mind as he drifted back to sleep.

In his dream he was in the middle of a dark blue ocean. There were helicopters swirling around his head and he kept trying to swat them away. Whenever he batted one out of the sky another two came in to take its place. Their propellers were making small abrasions all over his skin like paper cuts. When the helicopters exploded they looked like tiny camera flashes from an invisible camera. The aroma of burning fuel and gas filled his nostrils and made him start gagging on the fumes. He put his hands up to his throat as a sign of distress and all of the helicopters in unison started lowering down little ropes. Little army guys started sliding down the ropes and onto his stomach. He tried to flick them all off but there were way too many. Three of them hoisted up a big flag on a pole and started trying to ram it into his belly button. While they were doing this one of the other army guys pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of them. Before they could ram the pole all the way into his abdomen he ripped it out and shoved it through one of the army guys like a toothpick through an olive. He lifted the pole up to his mouth and prepared to bite down onto the little bugger. Before he could clamp his teeth the private pulled the pin out of the grenade attached to his belt. Timmy caught onto his nasty trick and threw the army guy up into one of the hovering propeller blades. A quick splash of blood and guts flew all over Timmy and the band of brothers. He noticed that they were all jumping overboard so he assumed his gesture of violence had the desired effect.

The water turned bright red and he realized the soldiers were ripping each other to pieces in the water. He'd never seen anything so vicious and gruesome and the longer he looked the more he felt like he was gonna throw up. His queasiness intensified until he let a gigantic fountain of vomit erupt into his belly before ricocheting into the ocean. The army guys were sucked under the water by the incessant raindown of spew and choked on a lethal concoction of water and puke.


	5. Chapter 5: almost randall

He woke up to the rank smell of vomit caked around his face and nostrils. He was alone in a giant field covered in orchids and little dandelions. He heard a voice calling his name from off in the distance. He looked around but couldn't see anyone. Whenever the wind picked up the voice got louder. He gave up on trying to find out who was calling his name and laid back down in a bed of leaves. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples clockwise with his index fingers. When he opened them again Sandy was hovering above him with an armful of apples. She plopped down next to him and set the apples down gently on the grass.

"Having fun?", she asked.

"Not really."

"Daddy said this would be the perfect way to revive your health. He says what you need is fresh air and sunlight."

Now that Timmy thought about it he did feel way better than he did in the dark room at Sandy's house. The birds were chirping and he couldn't help but feel chipper even if he had no idea why he got there and seemed to be spinning in and out of consciousness. As long as Sandy was by his side he felt content with being at the whim of chaos. If people were taking the time to make him slowly spiral into insanity, at least they weren't ignoring him. This was by far the most attention he'd got since he moved to Pittsburgh.

"Did you ever get a hold of my mom?"

Sandy choked on a bit of apple before clearing her throat.

"Geez, you and your mom. What are you, some kinda momma's boy or something?"

Timmy had never been asked that before, so he thought long and hard about the correct response.

"Well yes."

Sandy scoffed at this and threw her apple core at a nearby owl who was eavesdropping on them. He caught it in his talon and flew straight up until he was only a speck in the sky.

"I hate owls", said Sandy.

"Why?", asked Timmy.

"They're never around when you want them to be and always around when you don't."

"I feel the same way about spiders."

Sandy reared back and smacked Timmy full on in the face. He bit down on his lip and big crocodile tears started pouring down his face. He curled up in a ball and started rocking himself back and forth. Sandy curled up beside him and started gently kissing his ear.

"I'm sorry, little Timmy. I didn't mean to be so mean."

They laid there together for hours and slowly watched the sun dip below the horizon. On the verge of total darkness they were startled by the sound of screeching tires. A black studebaker, clearly being driven by some mad man, careened around the corner and plowed directly into the tree they were laying under.

After a few moments of deafening silence the driver door slowly swung open and a frail woman slowly climbed her way out of the destroyed car.

"Mom?"

The woman fell to her knees and slowly started crawling towards them.

"Timmy, yu..yu.. Yuh gotta run. They're gonna kill you. Yuh gotta run away."

Timmy felt a jolt of electricity run down his neck. He tried to stand up to help his mom but his legs were still paralyzed.

"You bastards! What've you done to his legs!"

Sandy got up quietly and walked over to the bloody woman in the field. She pulled a switchblade out of her sock and swiftly rammed it into the injured woman's jugular. She removed the knife just as soon as she plunged it in as a thick fountain of blood shot out of her neck and onto the grass. Timmy went into a deep convulsion and was certain that his spine was going to rip out of his flesh.


End file.
